Born of Desperate Times
by ayuru kaen
Summary: She carved a place for herself in a small, nondescript village, and thought, finally, FINALLY, she was safe. Far away from anything and anyone who could inflict harm. Protection and security was all she prayed for. She had given up praying for love, had never expected it - much less the danger that came with it.
1. Prologue

**Author's notes**:

First and foremost, you'll need an open mind and more than a little imagination for this story. That's it. Kindly bear with me as I twisted the actual happenings in the anime to suit this story. It will unfold as you read along the way, I promise. I've always wanted to do this kind of plot, and the main characters of my story have always been a fascination to me, hence my use of them. Together. In the same story. I purposefully left out any clues as to whom my plot will center on, except for Soi. I love Soi, just love her. That should clear up some cobwebs. Nonetheless, I hope to surprise most of you with my other main character. For those who may hazard a correct guess, please leave them out of the reviews, for the benefit of future readers. :) Criticisms, praise, whatever - all reviews (not flames) are welcome!

Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, about my not owning anything about Fushigi Yuugi and its characters. The plot is mine, though, along with some original characters.

* * *

_**Kutou, post-war with Konan country**_

* * *

The time of turbulence finally came to an end, at the price of blood, sacrifice, and strife. The blue flags have become torn and tattered, stained by soot and charred by countless fires. Despite the poor condition of the cloths, the flags are still raised high, straining and flapping in the blustery wind. It remains a symbol for the people, as well as a representation of the country itself. The emperor had not anticipated it, but Konan had risen in defense – as if echoing the battle that was happening in world of Priestess Yui. The Suzaku warriors had come to the fore to protect their own priestess in the ensuing battle with Nakago. In the unexpected way of fate, or perhaps it was ordained by the gods, the Suzaku warriors had triumphed. The seemingly unbeatable Seiryuu senshi was transported back to the Book of the Four Gods, at the brink of death and, like his fellow living Seiryuu senshi, rendered powerless.

It might be considered treasonous, but the sentiments of most of Kutou's sovereignty leaned toward relief and gratitude that their mighty, power-hungry nation had been crippled enough to cease looking for wars and creating enemies. The emperor had been killed by his general, and the general had become too weak to seek revenge on the country and people who defeated him. Without a cruel, dictatorial ruler, the people had resolved to rebuild Kutou on the foundation of peace and hopes for a better future. What was left of the Seiryuu senshi had disbanded, being without their powers for the first time; each one seeking his own fortune as a part of the survivors rising from the ashes of war. Everyone was making the best out of this unseen, fresh start on a new life. The war was a harbinger of pain and destruction, and no one foresaw the good that would come out of such violence and brutality. Yet to every setting sun, there dawns a new day; to every worn, blue flag, a new one is crafted out of better, stronger, and more resilient thread; and to every loss of family or friend, there lies the hope that future sons and daughters won't have to experience the same kind of wrenching pain.

It was a surreal time of tremulous peace in Kutou, one that the people are careful not to upset.

Unbeknownst to the world outside, Nakago lay in the palace, comatose, undisturbed, but healing…


	2. A Mother's Promise

**Author's Notes:**

I don't own nothin' 'bout Fushigi Yuugi.

* * *

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ _Soi _¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

I had not thought it possible to feel so much regret and gratitude at the same time, towards a single thing. If it weren't for that one night, that one single lapse in judgment, I would not be in such a precariously unpredictable situation; yet, I would also not have the precious, sleeping two-year-old miracle in my arms. The pale skin, gold-toned eyes, black-grey hair, and cherubic face make up the little bundle of joy that I nurtured and brought into the world. Chia is everything to me – the epitome of the dreams that I never thought to dream, the realization of the hopes that I crushed with my jaded cynicism, and the answer to the love that I was so ready to give, yet no one wanted.

Sometimes, I simply look at her and wonder at her beauty, and I bask in her innocence. No matter what, no matter the obstacle, I will protect this child. My child. I've risked my life and my soul to shield her from the war, and I would do it a hundred times again, just to see her safe. She is a vital part of me. And she is a part of her father. He doesn't know – will never know. Every day she is growing up to look just like him, but I see myself in her, and I am glad. It was a mistake for him, but an unexpected and rewarding accident for me.

We had both lost our senses that night. Throwing caution to the wind in the midst of jealousy, desperation, and unrequited passion, we sought freedom in each other. We had shared the same lover, had ample knowledge of the cold touches, the empty embrace. We understood each other's weariness for the stoic performance of coupling. Both of us had grown tired of and drained of trying and failing to melt the ice that made up the heart of the man we were resigned to follow and love unto death. Until that damned fateful night.

It had been the first time that I experienced fire traveling in my veins; there had been a furnace of hunger inside of me that exploded every time our lips had touched. Every time his fingers had brushed my skin, all thoughts of reason, of protest, of right and wrong, of what should and shouldn't be, had melted into a flood of sensation. To my utter shock, he had known exactly what to do. Before I even had half a mind to repay him in kind and make him shudder into my control, I had already been too steeped in pleasure. I had responded with complete and absolute surrender, with nary a thought to the consequences.

But now was not the time to relive and reminisce, especially about such instances that already occupy my fitful dreams. There was work to be done if I wanted to provide for Chia. She was the only thing important to me now. I left everything far behind, without looking back. I admit I had been terrified beyond my wits when I learned I was with child. Indeed there was no measure to the distress and disbelief I felt when I guessed at the father of the life growing inside me. Had my predicament not been so grave, I would have laughed at the irony of it all. Fate had such humor. I wasted no time in preparing for my escape. In less than two months of my discovery, I was as far away from the palace as I could manage in my condition. I could finally have my baby in relative peace. The village I found is untouched by the war that was raging in the capital of Kutou. My child is safe. We are safe. But some nights I have nightmares of soldiers taking away my baby, demanding me to fight. Some nights I dream of cold blue eyes, demanding my loyalty and my life. From those, I wake up shivering and in tears. Yet, there are also nights that are rare and far between, in which I dream of amber eyes, and of hands and lips that make my heart hammer and my skin flush. I had escaped to my own future, but my past still reaches beyond my consciousness and plagues me in sleep.

Fortunately, Chia and I had blended well into the village, threatened by no one. Most of the other settlers come from varied backgrounds, and all of us understand that we have secrets about our pasts that we want to bury, in order to start anew. I've made my way as a seamstress and dresser of some sort. It isn't much, but it's enough to keep Chia fed and sheltered. Chia is well liked by the other children, and the elders dote on her so. Nonetheless, I can't help but hear whispers and wayward inquiries about my lack of a husband; no doubt they are worried for Chia, who lacks a father. I am quick to reassure them that I can handle it by myself; I will be both nurturer and protector to Chia. I never answer directly any question pertaining to Chia's father. I let them speculate, for it causes no harm. Yet every day I dread having to tell Chia the truth, for that is what I vow to do. I shall endeavour to be honest and good and deserving of my child, the stain of my past life notwithstanding. Everything I am doing and will do will all be for her and her alone.


End file.
